


Closed Eyes, Shaking Fists

by maplewoodmoth



Category: Hamlet - All Media Types, Hamlet - Shakespeare, SHAKESPEARE William - Works
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, IT’S JUST FLUFF AND THAT DEEP ACHING YEARNING THAT WE ALL FEEL LADS, M/M, The things that make you thrive often hurt you the most, right in the feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-09-02 05:25:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20270692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maplewoodmoth/pseuds/maplewoodmoth
Summary: Fortinbras is not a man built for comfort, but maybe that’s why he can’t help but love Horatio, for Horatio is not a comfortable man- but he is the most kind thing Fortinbras has allowed in his life.





	1. Chapter 1

Fortinbras is not a man built for comfort; he has no creature comforts, no reliable and relaxed softness to fall back on when stress gets to be too much and war overwhelms him.

Horatio is the most comfortable thing he has ever allowed himself. 

But Horatio is not a comfortable man, by any means, and maybe that is why Fortinbras can’t help himself but love Horatio. 

Fortinbras is not a soft man, but then again, neither is Horatio. Even when sleeping he is all angles and bones and etched lines. A sketch more than anything, he is nobody that would be painted by an artist and still Fortinbras is entranced. 

He wants to draw this man, but he is no artist. He wants to gift jewels for this man, but Horatio is not one for things he cannot use. He wants to conquer countries for this man, but Horatio shies from conflict. He wants to gather this man up in his arms, but Horatio is not his (not yet, his heart whispers) and so he does nothing but watch. 

There are so many soft things Fortinbras aches to do with Horatio, so many things he has to withhold himself from acting on, scared of going to fast and driving this man away. 

His fingers flutter gently over delicate cheekbones that he dares not to touch. It is partially fear that Horatio will wake up (and leave) and mostly the fear that if he were to check if this is real or not he would wake up, and this is too sweet a moment for Fortinbras to wish it was a dream. 

So for now he watches and waits and thinks, though he is not a man known for any of the three. Patience may be a virtue but it’s not one of his. 

How will he keep Horatio his, if even for a miniscule amount of time? How can he convince Horatio to stay, when Fortinbras has seen how he watches the horizon? How can he convince Horatio to love him, when he is and has never been his king? How can he convince Horatio to trade him a heart in turn for the one Fortinbras has already given to him? 

How can he bring himself to ask? 

He won’t, and that is another tragedy. Fortinbras takes; he always takes. He does not ask and he suffers for it when he realises how he must.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise Lads!! Some additional unrequited pining from our favorite guy Fourteen-Bras (or 28 Tiddies).   
Enjoy!

His thoughts are heavy, in the darkness of the pre-dawn; they threaten to drag him down in melancholy and swallow him whole- like a carp gasping, mouthing at the surface of the water when it sees something shiny (glittering bright against the blackness of the deep). 

For now though, the early dawn light runs its way into the room through the window, curling its way around corners and into sight, like a cat making itself comfortable. The light lands on the bed and crawls its way up to his sleeping companion, as Fortinbras watches. 

The way the light plays across Horatio’s features could take Fortinbras’ breath away. He would deny that it does, if there were anyone watching him, but there is only him watching Horatio, and so his secret is safe with the silence. 

He snatches his hand away quickly as the sunlight turn Horatio’s features a burnished bronze, (Beautiful, Fortinbras whispers, entranced, absolutely beautiful) and sees Horatio’s eyes flutter with the first signs of waking. 

Fortinbras averts his gaze, mindful of being caught staring, but he quickly finds his moon-blind eyes dragged back towards Horatio, who he notes, shifts without opening his eyes, and then settles again, reclining against the pillows (like a god; like a Roman god, Fortinbras breathes out). 

Horatio is asleep, and Fortinbras smitten. There is nothing to be done about either of these things, and so Fortinbras leans back himself, languid in the early morning light, watching and relaxing as he so rarely lets himself do. 

The problems that come later will come; but for now it it just these two men, alone but together.

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve been pinging between several other Hamlet wips at the moment, hence the quietness this past week(s) so have what I’ve written from this!


End file.
